


A MI MANERA. 1btvs-ats-ucsl

by iskierka



Category: Angel - Fandom, Buffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iskierka/pseuds/iskierka





	A MI MANERA. 1btvs-ats-ucsl

Title: A Mi Manera  
Author: Briar  
E-mail: briargoeth at yahoo dot com  
Summary: The story of Amy.  
Rating: PG

Spoilers: all seasons.  
Warnings: none  
Distribution: list archives, my site, ask.  
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own these characters.  
for (katydid) Kate. thanks to Cim for first beta;  
Isabeau and Sheila for second-wave.

 

The first brownies they bake together come in a little  
packet, torn and poured to reveal good smelly powdered  
mix. They added water, and stuck the pan into My  
Little Oven. Jesse and Xander would drop by sometimes  
to pilfer the baked goods, but most of the time it was  
just Amy- who had just moved in- and Willow, the first  
friend Amy made in Sunnydale. Just Amy and Willow,  
mixing stuff up. 

After Catherine Madison trapped herself in a  
tri-county cheer championship trophy, Amy's dad wanted  
to throw "all the witchy junk" far and away. Amy  
wouldn't let him. She kept him from cleaning out the  
attic, taking all of her mother's special things from  
all over the house, out of the kitchen, mostly, and in  
her room (Amy's. Her mother had moved a lot of items  
into Amy's room during the body swap, instead of just  
taking Amy's clothes off her closet) and she convinced  
her father that the best thing to do would be to lock  
the items up in the attic instead, rather than to  
tamper with all that potentially dangerous material. 

Amy's father was a traveling salesman. His absence  
made it far too convenient for Amy to find herself  
poring over her mother's heaviest books, books that  
were hefty not only in the sense of weight, but, more  
tellingly, content. 

Amy read the pages of battered tomes and newer  
manuals, each full to brimming with the Dark Arts. She  
read them all, and then she read them over again and  
again. 

When Xander came up to her, ready to blackmail over  
turning in ghost assignments while altering Mrs.  
Hubbert's memories, all Amy had to do was think of  
Cordelia pushing her around- and everyone else,  
really-during cheer tryouts, and before, and then  
afterwards... Convincing her to say "yes" was never an  
issue. 

Of course, the spell had to backfire. Amy had learned  
everything there was to know in the attic, much too  
quickly, and in this too short a time she had  
practiced barely anything to fair utility, much less  
perfection. And anyway, Amy wasn't shooting for  
perfect. Just enough not to shoot aimlessly in the  
dark. Throwing whatever on the walls, so to speak, to  
see what stuck. 

The day every girl in Sunnydale within smelling  
distance (dead or alive) went creaming and screaming  
for Xander Harris, Amy learned she could turn humans  
into rats; that getting Harris stripped half-naked and  
painted in strips of red paint needlessly was very  
funny; that Buffy Summers had some strange strength  
mojo going on; that the funny, lumbering librarian had  
more experience with Dark magicks than her mother ever  
did. And that Amy had a lot to learn. 

The next weekend her father went out of town, Amy  
walked all over the city until she could find what she  
was looking for. 

She found it in an empty parking lot, recently vacated  
by a traveling carnival, the vacuum filled up in an  
alter-dimension with a flimsy cover leaving a trail  
for the curious and the hooked. It was run by what  
looked like a man who called himself Rack.

\--

Amy spends the summer in a haze. She goes to Rack, she  
looks around. She learns about living on el boca del  
infierno. She meets Michael, but soon figures out that  
her powers surpass his. She even shares with Willow  
some of the new things she's learned on her own, but  
not everything. Some things are best kept a secret,  
all the better to enjoy them. 

\--

As a rat, the first thing Amy figured out was that she  
couldn't do magic. She scurried away, and damn was it  
stressing. Better to be a rat, than burned at the  
stake, though, right? Willow Rosenberg found her,  
scooped her up and took her home.

As a rat, the second thing Amy figured out was that  
she was probably more of a lesbian that she'd  
previously thought. Oh, she had accepted her  
bisexuality, if only because she had to choose a label  
and "bi" was what was readily available. She'd made  
out with Michael often, and liked it. Rack had done  
the magical equivalent of fucking her from behind, and  
she had learned to like it because the rush was too  
good, and besides which she aspired one day to fuck  
him up the ass in return. 

She often saw Willow naked, pieces of Willow anyhow-  
large, gigantic Willow-breasts (which Amy knew were  
much smaller from a human's perspective) all seen from  
underneath, looming above her like a sky of  
Willow-ass, the cage seemingly forgotten in an  
unobtrusive nook, Willow walking the length of the  
room towards the closet, clad in the Emperor's New  
Clothes. 

Amy thought about the Xander-scent, Michael and Rack  
and looked to Willow, sniffing. Later she will think:  
"Even as a rat, I liked girls better." 

 

Just like when naked, Willow eschewed throwing a thick  
terry cloth towel over Amy's cage (used for  
particularly cold nights) during nudie touchie  
recreaction time with Tara. Amy, like the moment she'd  
figured out she was a rat, was very glad to possess  
and maintain a keen human intellect during moments  
like these. After all, Amy had never had sex with a  
woman before. She approached these Tara/Willow moments  
as a kind of educational 3D movie, which also proved  
highly entertaining, and- from her rat's vantage  
point- larger than life, indeed. 

So she'd toss up the seeds and munch on the pellets  
imagining popcorn, and soak it all up. She also made  
note of every spell Willow or Tara ever cast in her  
presence, together or alone, (not minding her, of  
course) the sweaty sex kind or not. 

Another thing Amy was glad of was her photographic  
memory. 

This is how she came to spend years as a rat.

\--

The first thing Amy did when she found herself back in  
her human form was to scream. With the power of the  
spell, she forgot all her memories as a rat, sort of.  
What happened was that everything she'd learned as a  
rat could now only be remembered with the dimness of a  
past-ratbrain. It felt only like she had been missing  
for weeks, at the most. Willow filled her in. 

They went to the Bronze and they stuck guys up on  
cages, and with each passing minute Amy regained her  
fuzzified rat-memories and remembered spells, and  
naked squirming Tara, and was careful to choose a guy  
at first, with a girl for Willow, because Amy was  
unsure about the fast-forward that had led to this new  
world, with the blown-up high school and the giant  
Mayor snake, who ate Larry, who would've been cute as  
a boyfriend if he hadn't been such a closet case. 

Amy looked at the sheep and the white floating demon,  
satisfied that her powers hadn't atrophied, and  
absorbing all the gone rat-senses and the lessons  
she'd learned as a furry rodent. Normal-human,  
bad-witchy Willow was beginning to look very cute.

\--

 

___"I just keep thinking ... there's gotta be  
someplace, like, bigger than this."___

___"Besides, it's way too early to go home yet."___

 

Amy chooses the bad part of town. Willow chooses the  
sleazy, cheap motel. It charges by the hour.

It is Amy who really starts things, little pecks and  
nips, all without magic. At first, Willow doesn't make  
a move, just stares at her with mouth ajar, green eyes  
meeting brown eyes with only questions and finding no  
answers. 

"I like you, Willow."

Amy kisses Willow's open mouth, and moves her tongue  
experimentally. Willow grabs her and begins to kiss  
back in earnest. 

If it is Amy who initiates things, then it is Willow  
who decides to thoroughly fuck Amy almost into  
oblivion. 

A quick learner, Amy decides to reciprocate.

They do amazing things to each other in the space of a  
few hours.

If anyone notices the sparks fly, along with other,  
less magical markers like the unmistakable noises of  
passion and lust, nobody bothers to complain about it  
because it's the bad part of town for a reason.

When Willow had made Amy human again, she had made her  
scream. Amy felt it was only fair to return the favor  
in spades.

\--

 

___"Uh, hey, uh ... this is Amy. Amy, Tara, Tara,  
Amy."___

___"--I mean, I can do some transmography, but she is  
messing with dimensions and everything, it was  
awesome! This blowhard dude, first she made his mouth  
disappear? Thank god. And then- " ___

 

She talks in exclaimations about the Bronze, and sees  
from Willow's expression that they are to act as  
though Absolutely Nothing happened last night.  
Willow's eyes are fixed on Tara, running away. 

Amy sympathizes.

\--

 

___"Hey Will? It's your birthday."___

 

Amy just wants to cheer Willow up. 

 

___"You know what I notice? You're not denying that  
you had fun."___

___"Shut up."___

 

But Willow didn't like that.

Or pretended not to. In any case, bridges were burned,  
and Amy was left to plot revenge.

 

___"If you really are my friend ... you better stay  
away from me. And if you really aren't... ...you  
*better* stay away from me."___

Her mind starts rifling through curses the instant  
Willow closes the door on her face.

Amy was going to stay away. Next time, she'd leave it  
to Willow to seek her out.

\--

For the next year, Amy didn't actually spend her days  
calling for Willow's blood and misery. She heard about  
the shooting, and felt bad for Tara. 

Amy got busy. She lives independently after fixing her  
dad's memory. He thinks she spent those years with a  
host family in Portugal studying cooking and Romance  
Languages. Now that she's twenty-one, she's selling  
the house in Sunnydale. Her dad never liked living  
here anyways. He's letting her keep the profit because  
he knows she's usually jobless. 

Business is not booming in Sunnydale. A lot of the  
humans are starting to get dreams about the Hellmouth  
opening. She's getting them, too.

She only gets the idea of the penance malediction  
spell when she runs across Buffy at the supermarket.  
Buffy pretends not to see her. That's when her  
Willow-hate wakes up angry.

Amy was going to ask her how Willow was doing with the  
whole "I'm addicted" schtick. She finds it laughable  
that Willow could blame all her problems on the  
supposed addiction of magic. Magic wasn't wrong like  
money wasn't the root of all evil. It's what you do  
with it that counts. It shouldn't own you: you own  
*it*. 

Even with Rack, Amy knew enough to only go on binges  
and then stay away for weeks, or even months at a  
time. Rack unfortunately had to disappear after Willow  
tried to end the world. Amy thinks it's funny that  
Willow would probably blame magic for turning her into  
a murderer.

She had to cook up something good, better than the  
cat-hex on Miss Kitty Fantastico, who had terrified  
rat-Amy on a number of occassions, rattling her cage  
menacingly, pouncing on it when rat-Amy was running on  
her little wheel. The cat-hex was economical:  
"projectiles will find this animal." Either a  
cross-bow or a car was bound to kill it, Amy thought.

For Willow, she didn't want death. After all, Willow  
was a *person*, not an animal, and Amy was better than  
Willow about recognizing the difference between right  
and wrong. Amy didn't want to kill her, she just  
wanted to have some fun. 

In the end, she decided that Willow was perverse  
enough to figure out the proper punishment for her own  
damn self. 

And all she had to do was watch.

\--

Ninety-five percent of the humans are on their way to  
leaving Sunnydale. Even a lot of the demons are doing  
the same. Amy doesn't know where she's going. She  
actually doesn't have a lot of stuff. As a rat, she  
didn't need much. As a witch, she takes what she  
needs. She's not sentimental about leaving this  
hellhole. Working out her Willow issues hadn't  
actually been that fun. Seeing Kennedy was funny and  
all, and figuring out she could get the best (worst?)  
of Willow enough to almost make her disappear into the  
murderer of the love of her life she'd murdered was-  
something. She was over Willow. Still likes brownies,  
but can bake 'em on her own.

No harm, no foul. 

When the apocalypse comes, Amy is sure as hell not  
dying in Sunnydale.

 

END


End file.
